


A Warm Hearth

by thedeadguyintheback



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1406215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeadguyintheback/pseuds/thedeadguyintheback
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the boys (are forced to) take a short break from the family business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Warm Hearth

**Author's Note:**

> been reading a lot of angsty fics, needed to give my babies a break. inspired by this work: http://spn-gen.livejournal.com/20263.html go read it.

It was a usual night in Twin Pine, Arkansas. I sat quietly by the crackling fireplace, reading a battered paperback mystery. The falling action was just starting to tie up the story when my phone rang. I answered amiably. 

“It’s Singer. Thought I’d warn ya, there’s a couple o’ boys ‘bout to drop on your doorstep. It’s the Winchester boys, so you might wanna have your first aid kit handy.” He said an apologetic goodbye and hung up.

It was another fifteen minutes before the aforementioned ‘boys’ pulled up in the driveway. I’d never actually met the pair, but stories about them crossed the Paranet like wildfire. The taller one was supporting his brother, who clutched at his side in poorly hidden agony. I greeted them on the steps and helped the injured one inside and onto the sofa. There would probably be bloodstains there tomorrow, but it wasn’t anything a little bleach couldn’t fix. 

“I guess Bobby told you we were coming?” the taller one said. 

“He mentioned it,” I answered as I examined the other, ten years of nursing insticnts kicking into gear. “Can you raise your arms?” He tried, then shook his head silently. He was wheezing, and his back was stiff in an effort not to bend in any direction. I nodded. “We’ll have to cut the shirt off. There’s a pair of scissors in the jar on the stove.”

The tall one had already gone to grab them by the time I was finished saying it. I cut the stained cloth deftly, examining his chest with a practiced eye. “No blood,” I muttered to myself. “but you definitley cracked at least two ribs. That’ll take some time to heal.” I turned to the other one. “There’s a cold compress in the freezer door. Fetch it.” 

The compress was placed gingerly on his left side, then fastened there with the ace bandage from my kit. I went into the bathroom and dug around under the sink until I found the extra strength pain killers. I gave them to the injured brother with a glass of water, and he swallowed them dutifully, wincing as he did.

The other one was loitering in the kitchen. “So which one are you?” I asked, handing him a beer from the fridge. 

“Sam,” he answered tiredly, hiding a flinch when he twisted the cap off the beer. “The one you fixed up is Dean.”

“You fracture that arm?”

“Dislocated.”

“Here, I can reset that,” I said, grabbing his elbow before he could protest. “One the count of three: one, two--” Snap. He groaned briefly, then nodded in silent thanks. 

Now that everyone was fixed up and medicated, I went into the hall and started pulling out spare blankets. Dean was quietly snoring on the couch, his mouth hanging open. “He’ll need to stay in bed a couple of days, at least,” I explained quietly, laying a blanket over him. “In the mean time, you two might as well stay here.” I handed him a blanket. “There’s a bedroom at the end of that hallway, go get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.” 

Sam only nodded silently, apparently too tired to protest as I understood they usually did. If there was one thing the Winchester rumors all agreed on, it was that they never stayed anywhere, even when offered shelter or medical assistance. The only time they didn’t move on was when one of them couldn’t.

So, I decided, I would make the best of Dean’s fractured ribs, making sure they were well fed and rested before they disappeared again in search of work. I threw a log on the fire and stoked it, took the shot gun from its place behind the door and checked that it was still loaded, then sat back down to my book.

... ... ...

The next morning found the house filled with the scents of bacon and blueberry pancakes and frozen orange juice. Dean was the first to stir. He padded into the kitchen, putting the thawed compress back in the freezer. “Sammy awake yet?”

“Don’t think so. Hungry? Need some more pain killers?”

He shook his head, but I tossed the bottle at him anyway. He smiled weakly and swallowed a few dry. “How do you know Bobby?”

“When I worked at the hospital, I got some weirdos and he helped out. I owe him a few favors, so occasionally he sends me broken hunters to fix up.” I flipped a pancake onto the growing stack. “What were you in town for?”

He yawned. “Feud between a witch coven.” 

I nodded, flipping another pancake. “That how you cracked your ribs?”

“One of them had an aluminum bat. Got me while I was aiming a shotgun at another.” He took a plate of pancakes back to the couch, since I didn’t actually have a table, and was drowning them with syrup as he went. 

Sam had woken up by then, and was helping himself to a glass of orange juice. “How do you feel, Dean?”

“Like I’m in heaven,” he answered around a mouthful of pancakes. “These are delicious, by the way.”

“Welcome,” I said, putting a plate of bacon on the coffee table next to the syrup. “If you two think you can hold down the fort for a while, I need to go food shopping. I’ll be back shortly.” 

As I grabbed my keys and left, I barely heard Dean mutter, “You think he knows how to make pie?”

**Author's Note:**

> more chapters? yes? no? suggestions or requests on further story? i'm more than happy to oblige.


End file.
